


Broken Hearts

by flimflam99



Series: Broken Hearts [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-20
Updated: 2017-08-22
Packaged: 2018-12-17 22:18:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11860755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flimflam99/pseuds/flimflam99
Summary: Sherlock returns from his 2 years away being “dead”.  We catch up with the ‘Consulting Detective’ in the café after posing in the restaurant as a waiter and nearly being strangled by John…………





	1. Chapter 1

“Who else knew?” John asked Sherlock. 

“Molly.” Sherlock replied eventually. John looked shocked and glanced quickly at Mary who put her hand on his arm reassuringly. Sherlock was quite surprised at how extreme John’s reaction was. 

“Talking of Molly, I don’t suppose you know if she’s working tonight. I thought I might…..” Sherlock trailed off as both John and Mary had their mouths open in surprise. “What?” Sherlock stared at them both. John put his head in his hands so Sherlock turned to Mary.

“Sherlock, don’t you know? Molly died. About a month ago. There was a gas explosion in the block of flats where she lived. She didn’t survive.” Mary put her hand out to hold his. Sherlock pulled his back, absolutely stunned. He stared at her and then at John who was openly weeping. He suddenly stood up and ran out of the café.

\-------------------

Sherlock stood at the grave of Molly Hooper. It had a simple headstone with just her name and date of birth and death. Underneath was inscribed ‘A True Friend’. Sherlock swallowed, his eyes glittering with unshed tears. He had brought flowers, yellow roses and carnations, and put them in front of her grave. There were two other bunches of flowers there, one of pretty yellow daisies was from Mary and John, the other white lilies from Mrs Hudson. It was ironic really, he thought, the first time he brought her flowers and he’s putting them on her grave. His hand reached out and gently caressed the stone. 

“I’m sorry Molly. I should have been there to save you like you saved me. Please forgive me. You meant the world to me Molly Hooper and I should have told you that.” He knelt down and touched the stone with his forehead before getting up and walking away.

\---------------------

It was two months later and Sherlock was playing his violin when Mycroft appeared as if by magic like the shopkeeper in Mr Benn. Sherlock deliberately screeched his violin. Mycroft scowled at him.

“Hello dear brother” Mycroft sat himself down on the edge of the sofa. Sherlock put his violin down and sat in his chair. 

“What do you want Mycroft” Sherlock picked up his phone and started texting.

“I’m afraid Queen and Country need you again, Sherlock.” Mycroft replied snootily. Sherlock rolled his eyes. 

“I’m busy.” He grunted “Go away.”

“Sorry brother, but you will be needed. You see it’s all your fault, you didn’t do a good enough job last time.” Mycroft started cleaning his fingernails with his penknife.

“What do you mean, stop talking in riddles” Sherlock huffed. 

“It’s Moriarty. He’s not dead.”

Sherlock gaped at him. “How do you know?”

Mycroft just raised his eyebrow. Then another thought occurred to Sherlock.

“Molly Hooper. Is she really dead? If Moriarty is alive, he may have had something to do with it.” Sherlock got up off his chair and started to pace.

“Everything was looked into at the time. The explosion happened in a flat on the other side of the apartment building to her. It was quite severe, the entire building collapsed, there was no way in which she could have survived.”

“But you identified her? It was definitely her?” Sherlock pressed him. Mycroft smiled thinly. 

“Oh, it was definitely her, Sherlock. Dental records were used. There was nothing faked about her death, believe me.” Mycroft stood up to go. He went over to Sherlock and patted him awkwardly on the shoulder. Taking Sherlock’s coat off of its hook he threw it at Sherlock. “Now go get Moriarty and this time make sure he stays dead.”

 

\----------------------------------

She was dreaming, she knew it was a dream because she was outside walking through Hyde Park. It was a lovely summers day and she was happy. The sky was blue and the sun was shining and she was so so happy. She was walking with him and they were holding hands, going to the coffee shop together on their first official date. He suddenly turned to her, his hands framing her face and he kissed her.

“Wake up little one, wake up” She was being nudged. She tried to ignore it, to hold onto the dream. Then she was being hauled up off the pillows and shaken. She opened her eyes looking straight into the face of Moriarty. 

“Were you dreaming about Sherlock again, Molly? Did he come to save you?” Moriarty leant over her on the bed. Molly quickly scrambled into a sitting position. Moriarty just smiled at her. “It’s ok, I don’t mind. It’s not as though it is going to come true but everybody loves a fairytale. The prince comes to save the princess from the ogre. But Molly sweetheart one day you will realise that I am the prince and Sherlock is the ogre.” Moriarty reached out and stroked her cheek. Molly moved away from his touch. He shrugged. 

Molly got out of the bed pulling on the silk dressing gown by the side and made her way over to the ‘Living Area’ where she sat on the sofa and picked up a book. Moriarty followed her, sitting beside her and moving his arm to rest behind her on the sofa. Molly didn’t react at all. Moriarty leaned over her.

“He’s not coming, Molly. He played you for a fool. Made you believe you counted and then when he got what he wanted from you, he dropped you like a stone. He’s got John back now, he doesn’t need Molly Hooper anymore.” His voice was a callous whisper in her ear. He kissed her gently on the cheek, moving a strand of her hair out of the way. His mobile went off and he picked it up, answered it. 

“I’ll see you later, Molly. Don’t forget to eat.” He smiled again and then left, the door locking behind him.

Molly let out a huge sigh of relief. She dropped the book she had been pretending to read and went into the Bathroom to have a shower. She tried not to think about what Moriarty had said but it was difficult because what he said was true. She didn’t matter to Sherlock, he didn’t even count her as a friend, damn it, she wasn’t even an ‘interesting case’. Moriarty often brought in newspaper clippings of Sherlock and his antics in the last two months since his return from the dead. He was busy doing all the things he did before, even going into Barts. There was no mention of him looking for Molly. 

The last time she had heard from him was three months ago when he had texted her to say he would be back soon and would she like to join him for coffee. Molly had texted back to say she would be delighted to. She’d gone to bed and the next thing she knew she was here. 

Three months she had been here and it was driving her mad. The only people she saw was Moriarty, a foreign girl who came in to clean once a week and the guard who stayed while the girl cleaned. The girl didn’t understand English and was obviously terrified to open her mouth and speak. The guard refused to speak at all other than to bark orders at the girl in her native tongue. Moriarty came every day. 

When Molly first woke up here, she was terribly afraid that he would do something to her, beat her, torture her and then kill her. He didn’t do any of that. Well, physically at least. He enjoyed torturing her mentally, especially where Sherlock was concerned. At first Molly tried to pretend that she didn’t know that Sherlock was still alive until Moriarty showed her the photos of Sherlock in her flat. She didn’t understand what Moriarty wanted with her, until one night when he had come in, he had obviously been drinking and he told her that he loved her, that she mattered to him and eventually when she realised that Sherlock didn’t care about her at all, he would start to matter to her.

Molly sighed and turned off the water from the shower, dried herself and put on yet another silk nightgown that was the only clothes she had been provided with, they never gave her any footwear either. She stared at herself in the mirror. Her hair had been cut and dyed blonde. She had lost quite a bit of weight and looked thin and sallow from lack of sun. She walked back into the main room. She had got used to the fact that she was constantly monitored, even in the bathroom. At first when Moriarty had told her this she had panicked but after a while she just didn’t care anymore. The longer she was here, the less she cared about anything. To begin with every time the door was unlocked she had hoped it would be Sherlock or John come to rescue her, now she didn’t even bother turning her head. John. Even John didn’t care and she thought she had been a good friend to him, especially after Sherlock’s ‘death’. 

The main room had a living area and a bedroom area. It was quite a large space and the living area was kept well stocked with a variety of books, dvd’s and music for Molly to entertain herself with. She was supplied with food and water. If she needed anything she just had to ask out loud for it. Molly could see out of the windows into the garden of the house but the windows were barred so she couldn’t escape that way. There was a locked door and a guard between her and freedom. 

Moriarty never came at the same time. He sometimes came in the middle of the night and woke her up, sitting on the edge of her bed, talking to her. He could talk more than Sherlock. But unlike Sherlock it was always about mundane things. He never told her what he had been doing. It was only when he started talking about Sherlock, gauging her reaction to his name that he became spiteful and would say things just to see her cry. Molly cried less and less as time went on, because she just didn’t care anymore about anything, but most of all she didn’t care about Sherlock Holmes.


	2. Chapter 2

It was a few days later, as soon as Moriarty entered the room Molly realised instantly that there was something different about him, an added excitement. Molly had just gone to bed and he came and laid next to her, putting his arms around her and holding her close. Molly held herself rigid against him as his hand stroked her back. She could feel the heat of his hand through the silk chemise she had on.

“It will be over soon, Molly” Moriarty said in a jubilant tone. “By the morning it will be over and you will be free to give yourself to me.” He pulled her closer to him, pushing her head against this chest, she could hear his heart beating. 

“What do you mean?” Molly whispered. Her hand clenched a fistful of his shirt. He dropped a kiss on the top of her head. 

“Tonight, my sweet Molly I’m going to kill Sherlock Holmes once and for all. Once he’s gone then you’ll be free to love me. His hold over you will break.” Molly’s heart twisted and she broke away from him, moving as far from him as she could.

“No! You can’t kill him. He doesn’t have a hold over me” Moriarty smiled menacingly at her before pulling her back against him. 

“Oh he does, sweetheart, he does. When this is over, I’ll take you away from all this and then we will be together forever.” He pulled her head back into his chest, tangling his fingers into her hair. Molly tried to pull away but he held her tighter. She relaxed against him and he stroked her back again before releasing her. Molly grabbed his shoulders and pulled him towards her as though she was going to kiss him before swiftly pushing him back and banging his head hard against the headboard. Moriarty groaned and lay still.

Molly pulled herself up off the bed and ran for the door. He had left it unlocked. She opened the door and found herself face to face with a guard who looked rather surprised to see her. He quickly grabbed her around the waist and forced her back into the room. Moriarty was on her in an instant. He grabbed her by the hair and flung her back on the bed.

“You bitch!” He shouted. 

“I’ll never be yours, Jim. Never, you disgust me” and Molly knelt up on the bed and spat in his face.

Moriarty slapped her, Molly fell back face down on the bed and he took his belt off and lashed at her back with it. Molly screamed in pain.

“Boss? We need to go.” The guard was still in the doorway. Moriarty swore.

“Bring me the chain that I left outside” The guard left but soon returned. Moriarty pushed Molly onto her back which made her scream more with the pain in her back. He handcuffed one of her hands and to the other end attached a long chain which he tied to the headboard.

“When I come back Molly, I’m going to chain you up properly. Then you and I are going to have the most fantastic time together. You’ll be telling me you’re mine long before we’re finished. Oh, and I’m going to bring you a present too. You love Sherlock so much, but you’ve never had his heart have you? I’ll bring it for you.”

He left the room, barging passed the guard. Molly stared after him and then looked at the guard. He was frowning as though displeased about something. Then he walked out, locking the door behind him. Then all the lights in her little apartment went out, leaving Molly lying in the dark, the only light was from the moon. Molly lay there for a bit, fighting hysteria, she examined the chain which was quite long, so she swiftly got up and off the bed, nausea rising up from her stomach. She managed to reach the small bin by the end of the bed and retched into it, then she started to sob.

\-------------------------

Everybody was in their positions. John was going in through the front door with one of Mycroft’s men who was dressed up to look like Sherlock. Sherlock meanwhile came in through the back of the house. He picked the lock and slipped inside. From the plans of the house which he had studied, he knew he was in the Kitchen and he moved stealthily round the table toward the door at the other end of the room. He reached out and opened it cautiously before moving inside. 

He froze as he realised that there was a figure in front of him. The man stepped towards him into the moonlight and Sherlock could see his face. He was one of Moriarty’s men but Sherlock somehow knew by the look on his face that he could trust him. He put his fingers to his lips and motioned Sherlock to follow him……..

\--------------------------------

Sherlock walked back out into the main room where Moriarty’s body lay, a bullet through his head and his men lay either dead or dying. They were being attended to by the police and paramedics. One of the men lying on the ground grabbed Sherlock’s ankle as he went passed. Sherlock was about to angrily twist out of his grasp when he realised it was the man who had seen him earlier, who had pressed his finger to his lips and motioned Sherlock to follow him. He was now beckoning Sherlock to lean down to hear him. Sherlock knelt next to him on the floor. The man was dying.

“The g-girl. S-save the girl. Top f-floor. Find her……..” The man’s head went back and his eyes looked unseeingly at Sherlock.

The girl. What girl? Sherlock stood up and scanned the room for John who was talking to Lestrade.

“John!” Sherlock called urgently. Both John and Lestrade ran towards him seeing the frantic expression on his face. “We need to search the top floor, this man, this man helped me earlier, he just said something about a girl on the top floor, we need to find her.” 

The three men ran up to the top floor and split up, Sherlock ran down to the farthest room. He listened at the door. He could hear sobbing inside. He quietly tried the handle but it was locked. He got his lock picks out, he didn’t want to break down the door and frighten the child even more. The lock clunked and he swung the door open. 

Inside it was dark, just the light from the moon to fall on the woman who was sat on the edge of the bed, sobbing. Her hair was short and blonde, she was wearing a silk nightie and she was chained to the bed, a long chain that allowed her to walk so far but not long enough to reach the door. The window was barred. There was a strong stench of vomit.

“It’s ok, you’re safe now, it’s over”. Sherlock spoke gently to the woman, he looked back down the hall and could see John at the other end, so he beckoned him. “I’m going to put the light on.” He flicked the switch in the hallway and the room lit up. The woman didn’t move and didn’t speak, just sobbed. He didn’t know if she’d even heard him. Sherlock moved round the bottom of the bed to get closer to her, but not too close. He could see welts on her back, they were fresh and bleeding sticking to the fabric of her nightgown. His lips tightened but he needed to be calm now.

“What’s your name?” He asked gently. He looked over towards John in the doorway and motioned for him to stay where he was. He took a step forward and the woman finally seemed to realise she wasn’t alone, her head snapped up and round, her eyes fearful. Sherlock’s breath seemed to stop as he stared in amazement at the woman cowering on the bed. He knew her instantly, despite the blonde hair. It was Molly.

“Molly?” He whispered. He looked towards John still standing in the doorway. “It’s Molly”. He reached towards her. Molly flinched and held her hands to her face. Sherlock frowned. “Molly, it’s me, Sherlock.” Molly shook her head, sobbing into her hands. Sherlock looked helplessly at John. 

John came towards the bed and gently moved his friend out of the way so that he could reach Molly. He knelt on the floor before her. “Molly? It’s John. John Watson. You remember me, don’t you?” Molly looked at him and he could see recognition in her face. 

“John?” She whispered. John nodded and gently took her hand in his. She gripped it tightly before breaking out into fresh sobs. John put his arms round her. He looked up at Sherlock who was standing on the other side of the bed, his face completely frozen. Lestrade came in. Sherlock turned to him.

“It’s Molly, Molly Hooper.” Sherlock turned round again to look at John and Molly. 

“Molly? But that’s not possible.” Lestrade strode round the side of the bed towards John and Molly. John shook his head firmly and Lestrade stopped. He noticed the chain and the bleeding welts on her back. “Oh my god, is she ok? We need to get that chain off, Sherlock why don’t you pick the lock.” Sherlock looked at John. John held Molly away from him. She was shivering. 

“Molly we need to get that handcuff off, will you let Sherlock take it off?” John was talking as though to a small child but Molly didn’t seem to care. It seemed to take her a few seconds to process what John was saying.

“Sherlock?” She whispered. John stood up and moved so that Sherlock could take his place. Sherlock knelt before her. 

“Molly. It’s over now everything will be ok. ” He went to cradle her head in his hands but she flinched and moved her head away. Sherlock’s hands dropped to his sides. “Molly, give me your hand and I’ll release you.” She looked up at him, he could see the distrust in her eyes and wondered what lies Moriarty had told her. Molly had always trusted him. He didn’t say anything but just held her gaze calmly until her eyes dropped and she held out her hand to him. He picked the lock on the handcuff then he stood up and motioned to John to take his place again. He walked away across the room to Lestrade.

“I don’t want anyone to know that Molly was here, we need to get her out without being seen.” Sherlock started to get his phone out.

“How are we going to do that? We have to get her to a hospital, get her checked over and then she’ll need to give a statement…….” Lestrade stopped at the furious expression on Sherlock’s face.

“For God’s sake George, we can’t let anyone know she was here. Don’t you see? Molly helped me fake my death, if she is seen here then it won’t be long before someone works it out. We need to protect her. I’m phoning Mycroft.” Sherlock turned away and Lestrade went back to the doorway to keep watch. Sherlock looked at John who was talking to Molly, who was still shivering. John took off his coat and put it round her.

“Hello Brother, I hear everything went to plan” Mycroft said smugly. Sherlock huffed.

“Almost to plan, Mycroft. There is just one problem. He’s kept someone prisoner.”

“Who?” Mycroft demanded. 

“Molly Hooper. Yes that’s right, Molly Hooper. A not dead Molly Hooper. We need to get her out of here ASAP without half the world knowing.” Sherlock snapped, he was starting to lose control of his temper as it finally started to sink in that Molly, his Molly wasn’t dead. “I want her to go to Baker Street, I’m not taking no for an answer Mycroft, I need to keep her safe.” There was a long pause as he waited for Mycroft to protest.

“That’s fine, I think you’re right. It will be as though she was never there. I’ll arrange it so that you leave with Miss Hooper the way you came in, at the back of the house. I’ll text you when the helicopter is waiting.” Mycroft ended the call. Sherlock turned to John.

“We’re going to go out the way I came in. Mycroft is sending a helicopter, he’ll let us know when it arrives.” Sherlock looked at Molly who still had her back to him. John sat next to her on the bed, putting his arm round her, she cuddled into him. Sherlock froze. She trusted John but didn’t trust him. He felt like crying, he turned blindly towards the door, completely missing the compassionate look that Lestrade gave him and walked out of the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock saves Molly at last. All he needs now is to regain her trust.....


	3. Chapter 3

They finally got back to Baker Street. John spoke to Mary on the phone when they were in the helicopter and she agreed to meet them there. She opened the door to them and putting her arms round Molly led her upstairs and took her straight into Sherlock’s room. John followed her with his doctor’s bag that Mary had brought. Sherlock took off his jacket and slumped into his chair. After a while John came back out.

“How is she?” Sherlock asked hoarsely. John sat across from him. 

“Other than a few welts on her back, physically she’s fine. Mentally though, well she’s in a bit of a state. I’m hoping she’ll talk to Mary, tell her what happened. What he did to her” John looked down at his hands.

Sherlock felt sick at what John was implying. He stood up and started pacing the floor, hot tears splashing down his face, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. John immediately got up and stood in front of him. He took hold of Sherlock’s arms squeezing them reassuringly. 

“Calm down mate. I don’t know what’s happened to her but she’s safe now Sherlock and she needs us to be calm so don’t go off on one, ok?” Sherlock nodded taking a deep breath. John released his arms and Sherlock went and sat on the sofa. “Let’s see what Mary can find out. Then I’ll give Molly something to help her sleep.”

After Mary came out and John had given Molly a sedative, the three friends gathered in the Sitting Room.

“I’ll stay with her tonight, maybe we can bring John’s chair in.” Mary spoke quietly. She looked pale. John nodded. “Sounds a good idea, she shouldn’t be on her own. Did she say what happened?” Mary turned to Sherlock who was sitting in his chair, elbows on his knees with his head in his hands.

“She said he didn’t rape her. That he never touched her like that, in fact didn’t hurt her at all until tonight when she tried to escape. He hit her with his belt. That’s all she would say. I didn’t press her too much, she was so upset and I don’t know her that well. I did my best for her.” Mary blinked back tears and John got up and hugged her.

“Thank you Mary, for helping her.” Surprisingly it was Sherlock who spoke. “It’s unfortunate that Mrs Hudson is away.” He leant back in his chair unconsciously playing with his phone. 

“Maybe she’ll talk to you Sherlock.” Said John. Sherlock looked up in surprise.

“I don’t think so John. You saw how she was, she didn’t want me near her. She doesn’t trust me. No I think if she’ll speak to anyone it will be you or Mary.” Sherlock got up suddenly. “Shall we move your chair, John? Then Mary can stay with her and you can sleep on the sofa if you want.”  
John got up and they picked up the chair between them and managed to get it into Sherlock’s room without disturbing Molly. Sherlock stared down at her. She was sound asleep, half on her front, her hand pillowing her face. She is so beautiful thought Sherlock. He bent down and kissed her cheek. Getting up he saw the surprised look on John’s face and he glared at him.

“What about you?” John asked. “Where are you going to sleep?”

“I’m not.” Sherlock replied icily. “I’m going out.”

\------------------------------------  
When Molly woke it was still dark outside. The glow of a small lamp the only light. It took her a moment to realise where she was and why she felt so comforted. It was because she could smell Sherlock’s cologne. That unique smell that just seemed to belong to him. But all too swiftly she remembered what happened yesterday. Sherlock hadn’t come to rescue her, she remembered all too vividly him asking her what her name was. It was only coincidence that he had found her, he hadn’t been looking for her at all. She suddenly felt sick. She moved to get out of the bed and that was when she realised that she wasn’t alone in the room. Mary lay asleep in John’s chair, her head resting on her hand. Molly felt a wave of affection for this bright-eyed woman, even though she didn’t know her that well. But Molly had to get out.

She didn’t want to be here, she didn’t want to be a burden and she didn’t want to be anywhere near Sherlock Holmes and his icy cold stare and harsh deductions. She didn’t want to be in the house of someone who so obviously had little or no care for her at all. She crept carefully out of the bed and just as carefully opened one of the drawers in Sherlock’s dresser. Her luck was in as she had found Sherlock’s renowned sock index, finding the thickest pair she hastily donned them, she bit back the temptation of messing up his fastidious arrangement. There was nothing she could do about the pyjamas she was wearing but as she crept out of the bedroom and down the stairs she found one of Mrs Hudson’s long coats so she put that on, hissing in pain as the weight hit her scored back. She quickly opened the door and was gone.

\-----------------------------------------  
Sherlock stood on the roof of St. Barts where over two years ago he had faked his death with the help of Molly. He stood looking down at the great city of London, his home. Yet his heart felt empty, yes there was overwhelming joy at finding Molly still alive, but there was an immense sadness too as when he’d looked into her eyes he didn’t see the love for him shining out. All he saw was fear, sadness and pain. His soul had lost its mate.

How long he stood there taking in the view, his thoughts running in all directions, he didn’t know but he was disturbed by the ringing of his mobile. It was John. Sherlock instantly answered. The conversation was brief. Molly had gone. She was walking the streets in the dark with no money, no shoes on her feet and the remnants of a sedative running through her veins.

\---------------------------------------  
Molly, feeling slightly woozy, stood outside her home. Or what was her home but was now just a cordoned off pile of rubble. Molly was confused, what had happened to her home? She shivered and wrapped Mrs Hudson’s coat around her more firmly. Her feet felt like blocks of ice and she sat on a nearby wall to rub some feeling back into them. The sky was just beginning to lighten when Molly heard footsteps on the pavement. She slipped down the other side of the low wall and crouched there in the shadows. The figure passed her by and then stopped further down the road just passed the ruin of the apartment building. She could hear talking but couldn’t make anything out. She popped her head up from the wall. The figure had its back to her and she quickly hopped back over the wall and scuttled off in the other direction. 

She hadn’t got far when a hand clamped down on her shoulder. Molly gasped in fright and spun round, trying to knock off the hand. Another hand grasped her around the waist.

“Molly, it’s ok. It’s me, it’s Greg.” Molly stared at the man, it was Greg Lestrade, Scotland Yard’s finest. 

“Greg. Oh Christ you frightened me.” Molly breathed out in a whoosh. She gripped his arms feeling quite dizzy. As if realising this Greg sat her back down on the wall, steadying her with his hand against her lower back.

“Molly, are you ok? Why did you run off like that?” Molly rested her head against his shoulder.

“I wanted to go home” She replied in a small voice. “Look at it, it’s a ruin. What happened to it?”

“There was a gas explosion.” Greg sounded confused. “Look I need to get you back. You’re exhausted and in no fit state to be out. Let me take you back to Baker Street.” Molly instantly stood up and moved away from him. 

“No. I’m not going back there. Don’t make me, please Greg.” She sounded pitiful, pleading with him. Greg was even more confused.

“Ok, whatever you want. But I don’t understand why you don’t you want to go back there, they’re all worried about you.” Molly snorted with derision.

“Yeah right, so worried that they spent all these months looking for me. I mean I know I don’t mean much to Sherlock but I would have thought a missing person case would have been right up his street, but obviously I wasn’t even worth that. Not even John bothered, in fact not even you, Greg.” Molly’s voice grew ever fainter and she took a further step away from him.

“What? Molly you’ve got……..” Greg was interrupted by the sound of running feet and Sherlock came into view.

“Molly!” He stopped just in front of her, his hands reached out for her, holding her waist, he pulled her towards him, one of his hands moving up to cradle the back of her head. “Molly.” He breathed burying his nose into her hair on the top of her head. 

Molly stood stock still for a moment and then pulled herself away from him.

“Get away from me, don’t touch me!” She yelled, she turned as though ready to run when Greg stepped towards her and grasped her wrist firmly in his hand. Sherlock just stood there looking white as a sheet, mouth open, hands hung limply at his side.

“Molly, i……” Sherlock stuttered.

“Shut up, Sherlock.” Greg growled at him. “I don’t want you to say another word or you either.” He pointed at Molly. “The car’s over there. You” He pointed at Sherlock. “Get in the front. And you” pointing at Molly. “You’re going in the back and don’t try to escape because you can’t.” Saying that he towed Molly with Sherlock following behind to his car. He helped Molly into the back before getting in himself.

“Where....?” Sherlock started to say but Greg interrupted him.

“We’re going for a drive. It should be light enough now. It’s not far.” 

Greg drove for about a quarter of an hour until he got to Kensel Green Cemetery. They all got out of the car in silence and Greg took Molly by the hand and led her to her own grave. Molly stared at it. It took a while before she realised what it was and when she did she sank to her knees, uncaring of the wet grass, with her hand to her mouth. She was unaware of Greg talking briefly to Sherlock and then leaving or of Sherlock kneeling next to her. His hand protectively hovering over her lower back. She picked up the flowers lying there, yellow roses and carnations.

“Every week since I came back, I’ve put flowers on your grave, Molly.” Sherlock spoke after a lengthy silence. “You died in that explosion. A body was found in your flat, it was identified as you by dental records. The explosion was in a different part of the building so it wasn’t picked up as being ‘suspicious’. I did question Mycroft when I came back and knew Moriarty wasn’t dead but he assured me it was definitely you.”

“You thought I was dead.” Molly spoke to her hands lying in her lap. “Moriarty told me you didn’t care, that I meant nothing to you. He showed me newspaper cuttings of you on your cases. There was never any mention of me. He told me I didn’t count and after a while I believed him. To begin with every time the door to my room opened I hoped it would be you, come to save me. But it never was. He wanted me to be with him, he never hurt me until yesterday when he said that he was going to kill you, I tried to escape, to warn you. That’s when he hit me. I told him I would never want him”. Molly finally turned to Sherlock, her face tear streaked. She clasped his hand in hers.

“I’m so sorry, Sherlock.” Her breathless apology was too much for Sherlock. He pulled her into his lap, his arm supporting her lower back so he didn’t touch her wounds. He kissed the top of her head, his tears running down his face as she snuggled into him.

“Molly, you must know that I would never ever stop looking for you. You mean more to me than anyone else.” Sherlock couldn’t say anymore, he just sat there on the cold grass, rocking Molly in his arms. 

Eventually she moved out of his embrace and they both stood up rather awkwardly. Sherlock held out his hand.

“I know it’s a bit late, but my offer still stands. Coffee?” Molly smiled at him. The first time she had smiled for ages. 

“Coffee.” She agreed.

\------------------------------------  
They arrived back at Baker Street courtesy of Greg. John and Mary were still there. Sherlock ushered Molly onto the sofa. Both John and Mary hugged and kissed Molly before Mary went over to Sherlock. She looked embarrassed.

“Sherlock, I’m so sorry. I fell asleep”. Mary closed her eyes waiting for his reprimand. Sherlock took her hand and squeezed it. Her eyes flew open. 

“You have nothing to apologise for. You were there in case she needed anything. In that case she would have woken you up and asked for it. None of us knew she would want to leave.” Sherlock knew he sounded stilted so he offered up one of his rare genuine smiles. He liked Mary. Mary smiled back and John put his arms round her and hugged her. They then left after hugging Molly again.

Sherlock sat next to Molly on the sofa. She looked at lot brighter than before. 

“I spoke to Mycroft last night. He’s going to sort everything out. He’ll find you a new flat or you can live here with me if you want. It’s up to you, Molly but to be honest I don’t want to let you out of my sight at the moment.” Sherlock kissed her gently on the forehead. “Your job at Bart’s is secured. They’ve even offered you a promotion.” Molly smiled, wrapping her arms about his waist.

“Do you want to go and lie down for a bit?” Sherlock queried gently. Molly quickly shook her head.

“I’d like a long soak in the bath, if that’s ok and then I fancy a walk. I’ve been cooped up inside for months. I need to feel the sun on my face, the wind in my hair” Molly giggled. “All that clichéd stuff.”

“Good idea. Anthea’s bringing over some clothes and other things you might need. I’ll run you a bath.” He kissed her forehead again and then went to run her a bath.

\-------------------------------------

Molly was outside walking through Hyde Park. It was a lovely summers day and she was happy. The sky was blue and the sun was shining and she was so so happy. She was walking with him and they were holding hands, going to the coffee shop together on their first official date. He suddenly turned to her, his hands framing her face and he kissed her. And this time it wasn’t a dream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love the last paragraph of this story. Hope you all enjoyed this!

**Author's Note:**

> This fic has taken me a long time to write. In fact I left it for a long while because it just wasn't right somehow and then it occurred to me that if Sherlock thought Molly was dead then why was Moriarty keeping her alive? Then I thought what if Moriarty wants her for himself. So I rewrote quite a lot of it and it just seemed to work better. I just need to proof read the rest of it. It should be three chapters in total, maybe four.


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